


Extended Stane Betrayal Scene

by WeirdEmmaline (DeliaDestruction)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But Worse, Iron Man 1, M/M, Multi, Poor Tony Stark, THAT SCENE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 04:10:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliaDestruction/pseuds/WeirdEmmaline
Summary: That one scene in Iron Man where Stane pulls the arc reactor out of Tony’s chest, but the scene now matches the fucking rapey vibes Stane was giving off in that scene.





	Extended Stane Betrayal Scene

_No, no, this isn’t happening, this **can’t **be happening! _Tony Stark’s breath came in short, ragged gasps as he watched the man he’d trusted all his life rip the electromagnet that was keeping him alive out of his chest. His eyes widened as he watched him set it to the side— hadn’t he won already? Did he really need to gloat further?

“It certainly is a pity that this is how your story ends, Anthony,” Stane murmured, trying to sound halfway sympathetic. Tony wanted to sock him. One good right hook to the cheek… Stane cupped the younger man’s cheek in a weirdly fatherly yet predatory way. It felt out of place enough, considering what he’d just done to him, but he let his hand linger there a few beats too long. He had what he wanted. Why was he still bothering with Tony? “Pity about miss Potts, too. If you hadn’t involved her in all this…”

Tony managed a weak whimper that sounded vaguely like a child learning ventriloquism trying to say “Pepper?” and his former business partner chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Right. I suppose I ought to leave you to it, eh Stark? Awful business, dying. I think it should require your full attention. Get your money’s worth out of the experience.” Stane laughed and shook his head. Tony almost expected him to start slapping his knee to punctuate his supposedly-humorous quips. Tony couldn’t find anything funny in his nor Pepper’s supposedly-imminent demise. The older man started to get up, and Tony’s mind was already racing to solve his predicament.

Problem: shrapnel threatening to cut him up from the inside out. Solution:

Solution: ????

_Think, Tony, think damnit! _he berated himself internally for not keeping a cooler head now. _How can I— **of course. **_

The mk1 was downstairs, sitting on his work table, mounted in a display case because Pepper was one part sentimental sweetheart, one part sarcastic bastard in just the same vein as Tony.

_Good old Pepper. She may have just saved my life. If I can just get down there before my heart gives out— _

“However,” Stane’s voice cut through Tony’s thoughts. _He’s still here? Why is he still here?_ The older man paused a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. It was a power move, Tony knew, but it wasn’t as though he could stop him and make him spit it out. He wanted the dying man to wait. He wanted to waste his time. “However, there _is_ one thing I’ve been wanting to do, and it certainly appears that this will be my final chance. What’s just bit more trauma before your untimely death? It’s not as though you’ll be around to remember, anyway, eh, Tony? In for a penny, in for a pound.”

The genius billionaire didn’t understand at first. Even the sound of Obadiah Stane unzipping his fly didn’t clue him in right away. He hadn’t expected this attempt on his life, how was he supposed to be expecting what would be coming in his immediate future? He tried to focus on his plan, on forcing his body to cooperate with him once more. _When I survive this, I’m personally going to take a sledgehammer to every existing version of that tech._ He tried to force his hand to move. He wanted to punch Stane. Oh, how he wanted to sock him.

He managed to twitch a finger.

_Well_, he reasoned with himself. _That’s better than nothing. I can work with that. I can— _

“Poor noble Tony Stark, making the decision to sacrifice himself for scientific advancement. Or perhaps you’ll have commit suicide because Afghanistan was just too traumatizing for you. You _have_ been through a lot, haven’t you Anthony?” Stane’s voice dripped with fake sympathy. “The world will mourn you, I’m sure. But will anyone _really _miss you, Tony?”

“Uuuuuhhhhh…” All Tony could manage in return was a weak sigh, his body still failing him. If he could just use his _tongue_ he could at least tell Stane off. Oh, he had so much he wanted to say right now. That sigh turned to a stilted, strangled gasp as Stane shoved him over roughly, large hands working quickly and carelessly to undo his expensive leather belt.

“Nnnnh!” Tony tried desperately to object as he finally put two and two together. Stane merely cackled darkly as he roughly undid Tony’s fly and shoved his pants down past his hips.

_This can’t be happening. **This** cannot be happening!_ Tony was screaming in his mind. He’d suspected Stane had the capacity to be quite cruel. He’d never suspected he could be _this _cruel. And to _him_?

“I wonder,” Stane said, his voice once more cutting into Tony’s thoughts. It couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds since he’d last spoken, but to Tony it felt as though eons had passed. Time had slowed to a near standstill. “Will the paralysis extend to your groin? Have I robbed you even of the chance to go out with _some_ measure of pleasure?” Stane sounded downright giddy at the thought of causing him even more pain. Every breath Tony took was already horrific. His chest felt like it was on fire, his pulse already slowing and becoming irregular. He struggled futily, but only managed to twitch his thumb. Not quite enough time o fend Stane off.

He whimpered pitifully.

“I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time, Tony. I’ve always had a certain fondness for you. Such a vibrant young lad with far too over-developed a sense of self-importance. To knock you down a peg or five _and_ feel how velvety-soft your virgin hole was? Simply a dream I’ve wanted to fulfill since you were quite small. If your father had been just a little less attentive…”

Tony hadn’t thought it possible for his blood to both run cold and boil all at once, but here he was. The idea that Howard Stark’s parenting had been the only thing standing between him and a childhood of trauma akin to _this_…

“Nnnnnnnh!” Tony could only force a stifled whine of protest as Stane forced his pants down further and propped his hips up, ass in the air for easy access. “Nnnnnnh nnnnnh!” His breathing very suddenly became labored as Stane forced his head down into the couch cushion. Unable to move himself, he was unable to correct the nostril that was now forcibly being held shut.

Panic was beginning to bubble just below the surface of Tony’s mind. His thoughts, usually rather jumbled but understandable, now seemed completely unable to be strung together into a coherent idea. He had no plan. He could do nothing.

Something warm and wet hit his crack a solid inch above his puckered hole, and he exhaled as hard as he could, wishing desperately that he could wriggle away. _Please, no. Please, somebody! Help! Pepper, Happy, Rhodey— anybody! Help me please! This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening!_ **_Somebody please_**_! _

Another glob of Stane’s saliva hit Tony, this time directly on target, and he realized that was what the liquid had to be. There wasn’t any lube there that Stane would know about, and he doubted sincerely that the elder man had planned this out well enough to bring his own.

_For the love of God that’s not enough lube! _Tony’s mind was screaming as he felt something hard yet strangely soft, yet thick and strangely intimidating run up and down his crack before coming for a stop just at his hole.

A terrifying chuckle filled the room, then only Tony’s left ear as Stane draped himself over the younger man, cock pressed firmly against his entrance. “Don’t stifle yourself now. Don’t you dare. I’ve waited too long for this. I want to hear every ounce of pain. I want to feel your heart break, you bleeding heart.” There was a pause, then Stane began to chuckle louder as he lifted his chest and belly up off of Tony’s back as he considered what he’d just said. “Hey,” he said, “that’s pretty good. I oughtta remember that for your memorial service, kid.”

Tony’s fingers twitched as he tried to clench his fists, trying to brace himself. Sure, he’d done _some_ butt stuff before, but never with an actual cock and _never **dry**_. No, he was far more used to the slim little fingers of the ladies he’d take to bed.

_If he expected me to survive, would this be happening?_ The thought horrified him because he didn’t know for certain that he wouldn’t still be in this position.

It seemed impossible, but time had slowed even further. Seconds lasted for centuries, millennia, even, as he lay there unable to fight back, helpless to Stane’s every whim. Was Stane dragging it out as additional torture? Tony couldn’t be sure, but his feelings all leaned toward _yes. _He was trying to make peace with the situation and just accept that this was about to happen, but with every passing second he found that more and more difficult. He was afraid. The spit was drying already. Even if he managed to keep himself alive long enough to put the mk1 into his chest, he was almost certain that he was going to tear horrifically once—

“Aaaaaaah!” A shrill, pained wail tore itself from Tony’s chest as Stane started to thrust into him. He wasn’t slow or gentle, but Tony had expected him not to be. The only reason he paused or slowed at all was to add more spit for his own comfort. Tony was blinded by the sudden, burning pain as his anus was forced open wide enough to accommodate the other man’s short, thick cock.

“Am I your first?” Stane purred as he bottomed out. Tony panted, trying not to make further noise to signal his pain. He didn’t want to give Stane any further satisfaction. “Pity. Such a pity, Anthony, that no one else will ever experience how delightfully tight you are. Well, while you’re _alive.” _

_I won’t scream. I won’t scream, I— _

A terrible, pained howl escaped his throat as Stane pulled back, almost like he was trying to start a lawnmower with his length. Tony clenched every muscle he could, but of course that just served to make the horrible burning sensation in his ass that much worse. He almost fully clenched his left hand into a fist, but could not pull away. A vein in his neck bulged threateningly as the man Tony has looked up to like a father forced himself balls deep into him once more with a quick snap of his hips.

“There,” Stane said, an exaggerated, teasing, comforting hand smoothed along Tony’s spine. “That wasn’t so bad,now, was it?” Tears were streaming down Tony’s cheeks as he let out a weak whimper. _Please…_

He felt some unwelcome, unwanted and most certainly unwarranted stirrings in his crotch; tingling he usually associated with Pepper or at the very least the floozies with which he regularly ended up in bed. He felt ill. He felt _dirty. _More than all of that, he felt horrible, burning pain with every movement Stane made.

The elder man took his time at first, easing himself into a good, strong pace. He made sure to go balls deep as often as possible, forcing Tony to take all of his short, thick cock again and again. He rested a hand against Tony’s back for stability, slowly sliding his hand forward until it rested on the back of Tony’s neck. He quickened his pace again, lazily starting to squeeze Tony’s neck. It didn’t take too much effort for Stane to cut off blood to Tony’s brain, and for someone who was already fading quite fast…

Tony knew he was in trouble. His heartbeat was slowing and growing more erratic as his heart was (not so) slowly failing him. Every few seconds his vision seemed taken over by blackness or solid pink hues as the pain he was in. He was trying valiantly not to scream anymore. Oh how he wanted to at least deny Stane that pleasure. But it was too much. It seemed to him that he would be screaming until he died.

Which might not be terribly long from that moment, he was coming to realize. It was really sinking in just how desperate a situation he was in. The more he fought not to scream, the more desperately and painfully the screams seemed to tear themselves from his chest. Stane quickened his pace, thrusting harder as his pace started to grow erratic. “Oh how I have longed for this,” Stane moaned in reply to the more recent screams, tilting his head back in pure bliss. He tightened his grip on Tony’s neck as he altered the position of his hips so each thrust would rub near-painfully at the younger man’s prostate. Tony wheezed and tried desperately to pull away. He managed a small amount of hip movement, but it was so minor that Obadiah Stane didn’t even notice. Tony was still far too weak to do anything.

Stane’s free hand moved beneath Tony, surprised and pleased when it met the young man’s semi-hard length. He let out a low, excited moan as he wrapped his hand tight around Tony’s member, stroking and squeezing as he continued his relentless thrusting. Tony let out a quiet, choked sob.

“Such a pity we won’t be able to do this again. I would’ve done so much differently if I’d known you were such a slut for pain, Anthony…”

“Unnngaaaaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Painful, hoarse screams continued to tear themselves from Tony’s throat as Stane’s pace sped up even more, his grip tightening on the young billionaire’s cock. Even if he _wasn’t _far more focused on ensuring that he survived, he doubted he could come close to any kind of release from the onslaught he currently was made to endure. Even Stane’s reacharound seemed designed entirely to cause him more pain.

Not that Tony _wanted_ to cum for Stane. Boy did he ever wish Stane would come, however. He was running out of time. His vision was beginning to cloud and he was starting to see stars and little black dots swimming before him. His breathing quickened and his heartbeat sped up slightly, but only slightly. It was still as erratic as it had been since Stane had ripped the ARC reactor from his chest.

He knew if he passed out, he was a goner for sure. He’d drift away peacefully…

Tony’s blood ran cold as he realized that he really was considering giving up. He, the man who had survived what should have been certain death in Afghanistan, was honestly considering… He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed pathetically. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, except he knew he couldn’t. Pepper needed him. How could he even consider it.

Stane’s grip tightened on Tony’s neck, causing his vision to go dark again as he gasped for air. He pulled Tony back, briefly lifting his face off the cushion and allowing him a full, gasping breath. His hips moved even more erratically, his other hand beating Tony’s meat even more mercilessly, eliciting gurgling, choked cries from the younger man.

Very suddenly, Stane buried his full length within Tony’s ass, groaning and twitching pleasurably as he unloaded his seed deep inside Tony’s bruised and battered bowels.

Eventually Obadiah slumped forward over Tony, hot and sweaty and heavy against his back. His grip loosened on Tony’s neck and cock, and Stane panted into his ear, “How does it feel knowing I’m the last voice you’ll ever hear, Tony? How does it feel knowing I’ll get away with all this. Easily. No one will ever know.”

Stane didn’t drag it out any longer. Once he pulled his quickly shriveling dinglehopper out of Stark’s ass, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned himself up before pulling his pants back up. As he stood up, he tossed the soiled handkerchief on Tony’s back. He left him, ass in the air, on the couch. It wouldn’t matter. Once Stark was dead, he’d have men come in and clean it all up. It’d look like a suicide to anyone who wasn’t currently present. He couldn’t stop grinning, knowing he was going to get away with it.

“Clean yourself up. You look a mess,” Stane said with a laugh as he picked up the ARC reactor he’d pulled from the man’s chest. He smoothed out his shirt and adjusted his pant legs before turning and heading for the door. “Goodbye, Anthony.”

“Ehhhhhhhh…” Tony groaned, following Stane with his eyes until he was out of the room. Once he could no longer see him, Tony began to struggle. His movements were sluggish and clumsy, but he wasn’t stuck helpless to the whims of those around him anymore.

He wasn’t sure it was wearing off fast enough for him to get down to the mk1. Frustrated, scared, and more alone than he needed to be while faced with such a dire problem, Tony allowed himself as close of an approximation of one minute in which to cry and sob and feel sorry for himself. When that minute was over, he composed himself as best he could and steeled himself for the struggle for his life.

Downstairs, an easy distance for him to walk, normally, he knew the mk1 sat in its display case, waiting for him to come break it out and use it once more. If he could reach it, he could survive.

He struggled hard, rolling awkwardly off the couch and landing painfully on his bruised behind. Stars danced before his eyes for a moment as he lay there, dazed, on the floor, before beginning to crawl along. Every movement he made was geared toward his goal of the mk1. But oh, moving was painful. There was no part of him that did not hurt as he forced himself along. Part of him, a not insubstantial part of him, desperately wanted to just give up. To just roll over and wait for death.

But Pepper. Pepper was in danger and it was his fault. She needed him. Tony could die, Tony could suffer a thousand horrible deaths, but he wouldn’t allow Stane— or anyone else, for that matter— to harm one hair on miss Potts’ head.

He didn’t know exactly how he would manage to pilot his suit, but he knew he had no other choice. He had to save Pepper.

He had to beat Stane.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you for reading. This is my first ever MCU fic so please be gentle when critiquing. I love getting feedback tho so please do let me know what you think! This was fun to write! Also big thanks to Sara for letting me spam her with while I wrote this LOL I don't think this would be a thing if I hadn't had her around to bounce words offa.


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